Just hollow.
***
One thing I’ve learned from being in this school for not even two days is that you can’t walk more than ten feet without hearinghisname.
I hear it in stairwells, classrooms, even the bathrooms. It’s everywhere. In everyone’s mouths, in everyone’s minds.
And if it’s not being said, it’s being seen.
His name’s stamped across half the school. Trophy cases lined with plaques that practically glow. Academic awards, innovation prizes, some national something-or-other I don’t fully understand, all engraved with the same name in the same pretty font.
He’s won everything. Done everything. Built things most of us can’t pronounce, let alone understand. And the school, the whole damn school, can’t seem to get enough of it.
No one can compare to him. No one can even come close.
To the school, maybe even to the world, he’s more than just a boy.
He’s a legend.
It’s getting hard to pretend I haven’t noticed.
But there’s something about boys like that, the ones who shine too brightly, too easily, that doesn’t make me starry-eyed.
If anything, it unsettles me more than I’d like to admit.
My shoes squeak slightly against the polished floor as I round the corner.
And that’s when I see Berlin. She stands with Ava and Zia, a smirk curling her lips as she murmurs something. Her voice carries just enough for me to hear.
“Murderer.”
The word slices through me, sharp and cruel. My steps falter. I know exactly what she means. Of course I do.
I continue to walk, it seems as though the eyes of the entire school are trained on me. Whispers follow my every step, amplified by the uneasy silence that fills the hallways. It’s as if, in their eyes, I’m just a spectacle to mock and use till they’re bored. I just need to wait till that day comes. My hands tremble as I reach for the lock, trying to ignore the sensation of being watched.
That’s when I feelthemwatching me, and a chilling awareness sets off alarms in my head.
Christian Ryder, Liam Grey and Will Carson.
Leaning against the lockers, their gazes boring into me. Their eyes are sharp, and there’s an arrogance that sticks to them even now.
Reaching my locker, I swing open the metal door to get to my books. There, nestled among the textbooks and crumpled papers, lies a small, folded note. My breath catches as I pull it out, my fingers trembling.
Ask the bitches living with you.
What?
A cold shiver courses through my veins.
Who has placed this note in my locker? Why? The accusation is as pointed as it is cryptic, which isn’t helpful in the slightest, since it leaves me with more questions than answers. I glance around, searching for any signs ofanything, but it’s just my luck that everyone seems to be looking in my direction anyway, so there’s no real way of telling clues from curiosity.
“Addie!” Lilia’s voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back to reality. She stands in front of me, her face etched with concern.
“Lilia,” I say, trying to sound normal. “What’s going on?”
“Addie,” she begins cautiously. “I’ve been hearing… things. Are you okay?”
A knot tightens in my stomach, and I feel the anxiety I tried so hard to bury resurface again. What have people been saying? I force a smile. “Oh, you know how rumours are. Don’t worry about it.”
